Page 53 of The World Undone

My mouth tasted metallic, seeing Darius stare at me with the same indifferent disdain that I was used to from Claude.

“Darius,” I shrugged out of Wade’s grasp and inched towards him, every step I took echoing loudly in the strange stillness. “Are you alright?”

When he was close enough for me to reach out and touch, I paused, afraid to scare him, like I was approaching a predator backed into the corner, the light from my hellfire dancing softly across his pale skin like we were sitting calmly around a campfire.

He didn’t seem to see me though. His eyes were dark, like no matter how thick the flare of flames, the shadows refused to abandon their caress.

He was still and statuesque, not even the breath in his lungs moving his chest so much as a centimeter.

And if he’d been staring at me before, he wasn’t now. It was like he was seeing through me instead, beyond.

I turned around, following his gaze, but saw only the serene calm of the lake behind us.

“What the hell’s wrong with him?” Wade asked.

I felt his warmth at my side, as I turned back to Darius. Panic lodged in my chest, clawing up my throat as I tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood tall, and for a moment, I second-guessed my unwavering certainty that Darius wouldn’t hurt us.

This didn’t look like the Darius I knew. It was the shell of him, sure, but there was something strange, something uncanny I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He didn’t feel the same.

I knew he had been a little…unlike himself for days. But I’d brushed it off, assuming it was the general chaos we’d been trying to get control over. Now, it was clear there was something more, something I hadn’t seen before, brewing below the surface, and I was cursing myself for not checking in sooner. I’d been so focused on Atlas, on the patients, and working with Greta, that I’d missed something. Something big, something important.

It was tangible. I could almost taste the offness solidifying on my tongue, the mystery just out of reach of my fingers.

A thick pressure built behind my chest as I fought to get through to him—the connection wasn’t severed, exactly, more blocked or clogged than anything.

Did they make mate-bond plumbers?

I closed my eyes, focusing on the feel of him, trying like hell to carve a gap, a path back to him.

What the fuck was going on?

Darius.

The word echoed sharp, loud in my head, as I reached for him, for the bond.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure it had worked, but then he blinked.

He took a step back, shook his head, shoulders relaxing then tensing again as he noticed his surroundings, as if awakening from a trance.

“What the hell?” Wade’s voice was quiet, filled with tension.

“Max?” Darius took a step back, voice raspy and deep. He turned to Wade, sparing him a quick passing glance, before his eyes locked on mine again, the dark emptiness in their depths replaced by the familiar heat and intelligence I’d come to expect. But there was confusion there too, a childlike innocence I wasn’t used to seeing there. “Where the hell are we? What happened?”

Wade’s head tilted to the side as he studied him. “You don’t remember walking out here?”

Darius’s tongue peaked between his lips, wetting them, like he was nervous, confused. “No, I don’t.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Darius shook his head, swallowed, and my eyes traced the bob of his Adam’s apple as he searched for an answer. It was rare to see him so confused, the usual confidence that bordered on arrogance nowhere in sight. “I vaguely remember leaving the cabin, needing some fresh air when,” he glanced at me, cheeks heating slightly, an uncharacteristic shyness, “Max went into Declan’s room.”

“And then?” Wade pushed.

“And then this.”

“That was hours ago.” Wade’s tone was stern, not exactly accusatory, but not far from it.

---